Once stuck, it is stuck
I am with my wife,
Disliking the taste she has
For food, clothes and manners,
As it’s hard to do replacing.
27.10.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taste Or Life?
They say honey is sweeter than wine;
Many say kiss is sweeter than wine!
Some are fond of sweet taste in all;
Many like hot taste in food we eat ever.
Taste is just a flavour of coffee we take;
Tasteless food nobody likes at first ever;
But food for living life cannot be ignored.
Sugar coated pill makes us take medicine;
Just like that taste makes food delicious!
Taste various from person to person ever;
Hence one man's food is another's poison!
So also taste for poetry, novel and articles
Say about one's mind, heart and soul ever;
More than taste food for living is fine ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overweight with Food
Are you just a tub of lard and
Vastly overweight?
Do you think that when you die you'll
Need a piano crate
To act as coffin for your frame? -
Chosen as you die in shame, with
Only you to take the blame
For years of eating much the same:
A daily calorific fest
Gourmands of your ilk digest!
Is your heart in final fling and
Nearly set to burst?
Are your arteries bunged and clogged and
Feeling now the worst
For wear? - your aneurysm fit to blow
While blood as thick as rising dough
Cries 'Halt! ' to any hope of flow:
A dreadful state to put on show
In front of any nurse!
Best you hail a hearse.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
Oh! Food food food food food food food foooooood!
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Syrup Sponge
Pour a pint of cream
Upon my spongy bulge!
Scoop me with a
Hefty spoon;
Taste my essence -
Do you swoon?
Feed your self-esteem; indulge
In me until you burst -
Death by syrup sponge - you're cursed!
And as the count in inches gain
Upon your weary waist, the strain
Will tell, but you'll not care -
Steeped in sponge, you're unaware!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food
food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Cooking and taste
eating the same tasteless dinner at the only diner
the umpteenth time, a thought came to my mind
am i a guinea pig or one of its kind
or was there a conspiracy behind
has my taste buds gone out of date
why is all so tasteless, that is the food i ate
i dared to ask the manager why the taste is so bad
bang came a caustic reply, this is by the best cook he ever had
(insinuating a problem not with his cook but with my taste)
well then it has to be my taste buds i thought
directing all my efforts to the food i had bought
then came storming, the savior, inside the hall
in his hand was the same food for which i have taken the fall
indignanlty he shouted at the manager
this food is so bad that even his dog had refused to had
hell i thought even the dog has a better taste
why, why am i such a waste
the dog in me forced me to start cooking that very day
the dog in me does sometimes refuses to eat what i cook
the human in me requests him to hav another look
for, when people are struggling for one square meal a day
how can i keep the food i cooked at bay,
hence i eat, taste or no taste, everything i cook, every day.
Consumers’ Desires
Though not hygienic, one can taste good food.
Though not royal, one can taste rich food.
Though not deserving, one can taste a woman.
The consumers need no qualification.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Disposition....
i
when we were on that island
in sum
we were treated with indifference
to my companion it was not just
bad manners but bad taste
even cruelty to an invited guest
ii
when we were in the boat i focused
on the good times
i always forget what i do not like
iii
this day both of them arrive in my city
and they announced it
iv
i am not indifferent
i dislike bad taste and bad manners
and so i decide
to drive them around
bring them to the best pizza parlor
and bring them back to
this sense of history
of our traditions
v
i guess they like it
but i am just human and i
promise myself
that after i have shown all my kindness
and hospitality
it will be their last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Diwali 2009
The 'Festival of Lights'
Has come again this year;
Let’s see the glorious sights
That cause revelry dear!
It marks the victory
of good over evil;
’Tis time to eat sweet food,
And have great deal of fun.
’Tis time to wear new clothes,
And burst crackers of kinds;
’Tis time to share our joy
With all, we see around!
‘Happy Diwali,2009! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-10-2009
poem by John Celes
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Manners are of such great consequence to the novelist that any kind will do. Bad manners are better than no manners at all, and because we are losing our customary manners, we are probably overly conscious of them; this seems to be a condition that produces writers.
quote by Flannery O'Connor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Healthy Life
Any time
Your tung
Taste
The food is
Not good...
Good food
Was not for
Taste...
Eat the time
Time
Good food
Each and everyday
Make a taste
To healthy
Life today....! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dogged Days
A country-dog has chanced to find
A plantain-leaf with left-o’er food;
Oh, what a stroke of luck this day!
It rolls over the ground with joy
And rips the packet open fast.
Some bits of chicken-bones with flesh
Amidst some biriyani rice –
That smells quite good but could be stale,
Yet tempting to the dog’s taste-buds!
The food lies scattered on the ground
With mud and pebbles, paper too;
A hungry dog is blind to these,
And eats the food in hurried way.
God only knows what things have slipped
Past throat, along with food it took;
Its hunger-pangs abated now,
The dog basks in the sun and sleeps!
But death could come soon anytime;
Just lucky, ’tis alive today!
Think of the human beings too,
Who lead a dogged-life these days –
Without a proper meal a day
Or clothes to wear or place to rest!
The God of love who made us all
Is watching how we treat brethren;
We talk so big but do little
To help the most unfortunate souls.
No land can call itself blessed;
No people can call themselves great,
While famished, ravished souls exist,
And people live in slums like dogs!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taste is more to do with manners than appearances. Taste is both myth and reality; it is not a style.
quote by Stephen Bayley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taste Of Food
In food is a certain quality of taste,
May they abstain and be erased.
For food manages my godly life,
Just as the fish manage with strife.
In this food, in that food we collapse
And honour a feast with some gaps.
The food we eat as dinner shall be kind
To the sleep we carry throughout the mind.
What food do you cook with expertise?
Fish and meat will certainly cease!
poem by Naveed Akram
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Creep Hymn
The creep
Goes to a restaurant
And order the food to eat at the restaurant
But when the food comes he eats a little bit of the food
Just so he can taste it
And he tells everybody very loud that the food that he order
Taste like shit
And then he takes the plate and throws it on the floor
But he lives the restaurant without pay
The waitress from the restaurant looks everywhere for him in the Restaurant
Sorry waitress he is gone out of the door
And he run away so that you couldn't catch him
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slaves of Food
Thick red blood veins bath in anger
The stomach grumbles in idiotic anger
A taste of food and out springs laughter
Triumphant moods commence again after
And it can be argued
We are all but slaves of food
Digesting away between interludes
Without food the mind is wholly screwed
We consume and wear different costumes
With food for thought and food of all sorts
We eat for the heart until it sets us apart
While the crumbs are often sought by rats
The pleasure one feels after a congested meal
That inner gratifying satisfaction is cheap but real
Toast, eggs and beans and it is work and work
Fruits, wine and cakes and it is talk and talk
Coffee or tea and eyes are conspicuously awake
A turkey roast and sleep is suspiciously at stake
We are all but slaves of food
I conclude with fluctuating moods
There is food for romance
There is food for the fools
Enjoy, eat fast, food never lasts, rewind and preview
Hungry mouths elsewhere regularly wait for its rescue
Copyright 2009 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love Food
I love food, I love food
It makes me feel really good
Yummy and nutritious food
Keeps me in a superb mood
Food is a gift from above
A sign of His assuring love
Let us not waste this treasure
Let‘s be thankful for this pleasure
I want the whole world to know
How it makes me go, grow and glow
Just eat healthy and nutritious food
And it would do you good
I love food, I love food.
(November 5,2009, Philippines)
poem by Carl Antoni Mallillin
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Clothes
That party requires me to wear this and that
The dress code rules, the most annoying;
And if I have to deliver this news
Such as delivering newspapers
to be wearing a raincoat
How idiot-definitely-in times of rain and
the news was soaking
'How are you so? '
Weather folded pocket behind
The voice laughed, embarrassed the rigid rules..
What clothes should be removed
even though it
Giggles fly over the heads of
And golden perch in the cage
The owners of the kingdom of words;
Husband joked with another man's wife
In the pockets of his clothes there
1 box of cards,
mobile-phone numbers and streets with no name
'Excellent news today'
All nodding like dolls;
Made of tulips...
I say birds fly free
Dancing in my awkward silence
So what does it mean, all these dishes;
Presented after further ado completed
Or enjoy the embrace of the word..
After this we said go!
After this we remove the clothes;
And the buttons were scattered in the air
Became the new news about the clothes;
We laugh together..
(2009)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Cry for Food and They Give Us Bullets
Food! Food! Food!
It is all that we need
It is all that we need
to calm down our spirits!
It is food that fills
that fills the empty pangs
of our stomachs,
pangs that make us yawn
but cannot sleep
that make us gulp
but cannot vomit,
that make our saliva
taste sour and acidic!
We cry for food
like the helpless little children
with the art to attract attention
by our street demonstrations.
Yes, we cry for food like little children
to calm down our spirits,
that the cry cannot at all be neglected
for it is food,
it is food that soothes our spirits.
But you give us bullets
on the streets where we stage
our cry for food
You give us bullets
instead of food.
But even bullets cannot silence
our cry for food
for as long as we`re hungry
we shall be like little children
that will ever cry for food.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog Food
Pop
Im hanging around that same old scene
My girlfriend betsy shes just fourteen
Theres nothing better for me to do
Im living on dog food
Dog food is so good for you
It makes you strong and clever too
Dog food is a current craze
Eat some every day
I chew up my sunday mirror
I read about the rich I fear
Dog food is my whole life
Dog food composes my wife
Yum yum yum - woof woof woof - arf arf
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes, but also one of the problems for a novelist in Ireland is the fact that there are no formal manners. I mean some people have beautiful manners but there's no kind of agreed form of manners.
quote by John McGahern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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